Stayed
by MewtwoOnAFlyingApe
Summary: Even though his glasses have toppled to the ground and he is covered in blood, he is glad that he stayed. (HETAONI. Warnings: Major Character Death. Rated M to be safe.)


"You can't leave me, Arthur!" America screams, his breath hitching as England's glazed emerald met his own sapphire. He could feel the tears pricking the corners of his eyes as England offers him a weak smile, blood trickling out of his mouth.

"I - I won't b - be leaving you, A - America. I wi - will always be here f - for you. I - I will watch o - over you, even if I - I die..." England's voice is slurred and stuttery as he whispers, his head tilting back and his body twitching.

"Don't speak like that!" America sobs, tears and snot streaming down his flushed face. "We just lost Matthew, we can't lose you too! Arthur, it's just us, Italy, and Russia. You can't leave us! You can't!"

"I - I'm sorry, Alfred..." England rasps, his voice barely carrying onto the American's ears as he speaks his final words. "I - I love you s - so much you bloody g - git."

America screams in protest, grabbing at England's shoulders. He pulls him into a sitting position, only to start crying when England's head lolled back limply. He tries to speak, but no words escape. A pathetic sob rips through his chest as he grits his teeth and lays the dead Brit back onto the bed. America looks over at the bed to his other side, staring at his brother's corpse.

"You two mean everything to me." He mumbles, tasting salt as the tears that fall down his cheeks find their way into his mouth. America looks up, exhaustion evident on his face as he hears what sounds like... footsteps. But...

"A - America, England, are you guys in here?" The formerly boisterous voice drifts into the room as Veneziano slides the door open, a frightful expression on his face. "Did E - England...?"

"He's gone, Feliciano." America responds, biting his lower lip and hanging his head as Veneziano lets out a small whimper. "I - It's not your fault..."

"But it is my fault!" Italy cries, and America looks up in time to see the Italian cover his face with his hands. His blood runs cold as he hears heavy footsteps that make the old floorboards creak. "America, we need to - !"

"Feliciano, I'm not leaving Arthur or Matthew." America whispers, meeting the Italian's horrified eyes. "You need to run and get out of here. These two mean so much to me... I - I can't leave them."

"America!" Italy sobs, a hand going to clutch at his chest. America can feel his resolve wavering in the slighest. "Please! You can't do this to me! You can't - !"

"I'm sorry Italy. I can't leave them. They're everything to me. They're my family. Do you want to leave Ludwig - ?"

"No! I never wanted to leave him, but we have to! We have to survive, America, please! I can't do this by myself!" America can hear the heavy shuffling of the monster's feet. He bites his lower lip and looks at the terrified and tearful Italian.

"Feliciano... You know what to do." America says simply. "But I'm not leaving. You need to go. Now."

Veneziano opens his mouth to sputter out a weak protest, but clamped it shut. The trembling nation slipped the door open a crack to check outside, casting one last glance at the American. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, Alfred..." With those words being said, the Italian sprints out of the room, the door shutting behind him. America sighs, letting his head hang as he grips Canada's hand in one of his and England's in the other. Then he waits.

 _ **Creak**_.

 _Shuffle shuffle_.

 _ **Creak**_.

 _Shuffle shuffle._

America takes a deep breath and looks up at the door, a weak smile forming on his face. "I'll see you guys soon... England and Canada..."

 _ **Creak.**_

 _Shuffle shuffle._

 _ **Creak...**_

 **BANG!**

 **BANG!**

 _ **CRACK!**_

America clamps his hands around the hands of his family before he looks up to stare the monster in the eye. "Well? Come on, the hero is always prepared!"

Blood splattered onto the ground and America slumped forward, his glasses toppling onto the floor. England's and Canada's hands were still clutched in his grip. His breathing slows until it was nonexistant.

He is glad that he never left.

He is glad that he stayed.

* * *

 **Is it sad that I, the author, am close to tears right now? Should I be crying?** **Also, thank you for reading this far, haha! *hugs***


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